Maestros: Legacy of the Last Avatar
by Veni Et Confirma
Summary: No Comet. No Avatar. No Aang. With these world churning absences, Fate proves stubborn and gather's the Destined Cast for a whole new Tale.


Conducting Conflict by Veni-Et-Confirma

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_One hundred years ago, the Avatar, in a desperate gamble to stop the mounting threat of war, destroyed the Great Comet, but died on the summit of his power. The font of his god-like might struck down, the cycling reincarnations of the World Spirit ceased, and with it, the mutual separation of elemental mastership._

_But not all was joy in the time of free-form Bending. Without the Avatar, ambassador of phantoms and mortals alike, the spirit world and human world were forced into marriage. Thus, rose the 'Maestros', those with walking feet from this world and working hands from the next. With no Bending dominion of their own, they learned the brutal art of human-to-spirit negotiation and the hurt of being not quite welcomed anywhere on the planet…_

…_but there was a small comfort in such homeless eternity: should they act as fully realized Maestroes, they would gain the distant love of their human family and the unearthly respect of the spirit world. With such favor, they could find peace…and truly rest, as they could only have dreamed in times when they could feel their own beating heart…_

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Wrought Iron:

Alright, _where_ to begin my awesome story of epic girlhood battles…? Ah! I know! When I came to the temple and started my long road of badass training and adventure…shut up, Tea-boy…

Toph would have refused help in any other scenario, certain that her unrivaled ability to systematically break down the opposition with ice, rock, and steel would insure a life without serious problems. She'd tear down any mountain that'd stand in her way and when it came time to finally die, she go out in such a world shaking battle that her epitaph would be the conclusion of epics.

That was the day before yesterday, when she could chuck rocks three times the size of anything with the stuff to get in her way. Now, with no Bending ability whatsoever, she was powerless to deal with the utter trauma of having _no Bending ability whatsoever_. Yes, it was _that_ kind of problem, which lead her to her latest solution: knock on the door of someone that knows better.

Three problems, right there. No bending, thus dulled senses, which left her completely blind to the 'someone' that was also partially '_something'_. What little experience with she'd had with the mannerisms of spirits before her 'incident' now amounted to a big, _fat 'What the __**hell**__ do I do, now?_'.

Before the altar of the Blue Spirit, the twelve-years-old plutocrat scratched her overly large bun of graying-black hair as she dug through her rocky mind for the memory of how to show respect to someone _not_ quite human. The local frauds had told her to offer a precise array of flowers and burning herbs, but Toph, mighty or weak, had never been one to take the _exact_ advice of even _reliable_ sources. So she did the only thing that had gotten her this close to her thirteenth birthday alive: she chucked a rock at her problem.

Unscratched, the stone relief of an ogre-goblin's face grinned evilly, as it had done for the last hour of her failing invocations and as it had done every other time she looked at it since the Temple Tour guide lead her class into its dusty room for the first time. With sudden insight, the young girl returned to her mental excavation, this time grasping for anything she had paid attention to on those mind-numbing tours.

A minute later, she had everything she'd remembered, most of which she had recalled within the first five seconds. The part about his failure as a tea-maker came back forty seconds after the important stuff and she decided she had uncovered everything she could.

"Uh…," she winced at her worst invocation yet, but pressed on with what she had left of her mountain-moving confidence. "I'm really sorry I threw a rock at your…holy-resting-place-or-whatever, but I need help with…" she held her chin. Up until then, she'd never had to verbalize her predicament without synonyms for 'situation' and 'load of bull', especially while trying to respect someone. So she didn't. " with my cruelly ironic problem. I'm not the type to skirt the issue. I need your help 'cause I think I have the same problem as you did seven centuries- I mean decades ago. I've read the books and all signs point to me being a 'Maestro', like you. So, if you'd consider it, please, help me help myself."

She stood up reflexively, her parents having told her to 'leave immortals to their pondering as they frown upon insolence and impatience'. With what she had to say said, Toph turned, brushing off her dusty knees for anyone that would be looking upon her exit. Upon thinking of the outside, she realized that, for once in her life, she couldn't casually walk through a wall. Sneering, she walked up to the stone and pounded strongly with a well executed punch. Minerals fell from her fist as she rubbed her knuckles; even if the world no longer broke under her command, she still had her Hard Bender's strength; the wall cracked, but her hand whined with grudging pain. Days ago, there wouldn't be a temple standing if her strike had hurt her that much.

Now, she was just left wondering why no one was coming despite the volume of the thud. She was about to rule out a vengeful alter-minder, but remembered that her senses weren't what they used to be and, though she could pass fairly easily through crowded walkways, she still might not recognize the seismic signature of a sore loser.

Combining that with the way people's voices tended to shake in her proximity and she'd come up a grudging wimp with an excuse to trap her indefinitely as the source of her newest problem.

Testing her theory, she took in a good breath and- "_Open this damn door, __**now**_!" –wished her voice was deeper in pitch. Not only would it have not sounded so annoying, it would have travelled more easily through the thick rock. She waited there, pinkying her ear for wax.

…silence. Then a hole not big enough for just two of her fingers to fit appeared with a hint of light. "I'm only allowed to answer to _humans_." The voice of the minder stung through the opening. "You already admitted you're a _Maestro_. The town doesn't need _that_ kind of trouble. Draggers are bad enough." The hole shrunk to a pinhead's width. "Just 'cause you look like a little girl doesn't make one. Rest in peace, demon."

Toph turned her back on the now complete wall, the slimebag behind it, and the rest of humanity beyond. She dragged her feet to the base of the stone block she had prayed before not five minutes before. She curled up, hugging herself, her back to world.

"Scoot over," she commanded the Blue Spirit, and let fall her tears, one, by one, by one…

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'Blue Spirit':

Wow, Toph, you managed to tell the direct truth. You've really come a long way since- hey! ...well, that's what you get for throwing _chairs _at the story table. Now sit down so I can take up where you left off…

Mumbling.

A poke.

A bang.

A muffled cry.

Then a final "Scoot over" and the scent of clay, grass, and rich perfume.

This, by far, was the _weirdest_ way of waking up that didn't involve flaming hands wringing his throat, a chicken, or a random child claiming him as his father. _Wait_, he though at the warmth of a small, soft body. _A little girl? Not again…_

He sat up, propping himself up with one hand and rubbing away the sleep with the one that the small girl had curled up against. His festival-and-infiltration mask fell into his lap and he picked it up with his left hand and took a good, long look at the thing. Sure enough, the mask did _not_ start speaking sailor-shaming vulgarity. He wasn't dreaming anymore. He was awake. The girl had awaken him.

He needed to get up and think on a higher level beyond the obvious. Twisting his leg around and spinning to a standing position, the 'Blue Spirit' looked down at his 'summoner' and…then he noticed her proximity and the lack of symptoms that pointed it out a child so recently traumatized as to go straight up to a _Maesto_. The only thing worth noting was the juxtaposition of mud and classy attire. Sure that she wouldn't mind a little less cleanliness, he held up the mask and dropped it.

A yelp "I'm up! I'm…" she didn't look up, but padded a hand in his direction. "Where's the altar? And who are you? You'd better not be that Dong Nuuo guy, 'cause I'll- "

"Zuko." He slipped in.

"-beat you to a pulp and…wait." She got to her feet and stepped his way, deliberately bumping away the mask. "Gimme your face." She held up her hands to his head, but didn't look up. He lowered himself to her level, taking in her lifeless, faded eyes. Tentatively, she palmed his head.

Then started groping every inch of his face like a baker to dough. "Hey!" he cried.

"Sheer Eastern. Remnant of the Sozin Dynasty," she checked off " Hard Bending musculature with slight imbalance between repetition and impact leaning toward the latter. Symmetrical, despite drastic, second degree burns and scarring. Shaves frequently and frowns more easily than smiles, leading to shady grins when trying to be pleasant. High blood pressure, nose broken seven time; each time with better healing, and barely lost virginity. Those last three would put truth to your bad tea-making, which would make you Zuko, infamous Blue Spirit of the East and seventh most badass Maestro in history. I'm Toph, this is how I wake up, and I'm here 'cause I'm a newly born Maestro and want to be strong, again."

"No," he corrected "You're _weird_, this is the _weirdest_ way I have _ever_ waken up, and you're here because I have a large gallery of enemies with _weird_ ways of getting back at people for _stealing their fruit tarts_!"

She frowned "I- " she shook her heads "Why did you- no, the first thing was important. I-"

"-got attacked by flying pirates, was nearly killed despite profound Bending abilities, refused to die entirely and wound up waking me up and getting stuck here because of prejudiced people with losing issues. Tell me I'm wrong."

She blushed, then scowled at the floor. "you're wrong…" she didn't even try to sell it. He blinked when the verbal back-lash never came, silent tears taking their place. He sighed into groan and wrapped her up in a hug.

"Child prodigy?" she nodded into his shirt. "Then we'll have to teach you how to fight like a 'Maestro' while we take down the one's responsible for messing with our lives." They parted and he patted the hair-bun. She promptly like smacked his hand. "Nice attitude."

He said it genuinely.

"First lesson!" he clapped his hands and guided her to the wall; still not quite smiling, but upbeat, nonetheless "Voluntary Intangibility…"

* * *

Wrought Iron: Things were looking up for the former powerhouse. Maestros, conductors of trial, conflict, and war, were weak to spirits and demonic to humans, but to other Maestros, they were kin, whether for good or bad. This guy, who made 'scar-face' a redundant nickname on _all_ levels, was actually a nice guy despite his nonexistent smiling muscles and social graces. He was rough and handsome, strong in presence and stride.

She prayed thanks that she still had her 'sights' on the boy down the road; with two more years and working eyes under her belt, she would have hopelessly fallen for the older man's stumbling charms and she'd have to send the rest of their mutual acquaintance in painfully awkward crush.

"Stop looking at me and focus on the wall." He knocked into her girlish distractions. She shook her head and did as told, muttering inaudibly about damnable- "_Stronger_! Not _harder_. You're not putting in enough effort if it's still _hard_." –princes and their messed-up vocabulary. "Don't think I didn't hear that!"

She closed her eyes and in that moment she wanted nothing more than to be out of his presence. She nearly fell before she realized that she was on the other side and with no wall in front of her. Toph turned back to her latest triumph, smiling wildly until she caught the rumbles of a snoring altar-minder. She walked up to his slumping form and struck him down. He was out cold before he could yelp in sleepy surprise, the smell of blood in the air. No serious damage; probably just a bleeding scalp and a few weeks loss of memory.

So she thoroughly bruised his gut until Zuko pulled her away, the young girl kicking and screaming for more divine punishment upon the unworthy slime-bag and his less-worth intestines.

"Second lesson!" he declared to the nigh rabid Maestro-girl under his arm. "Escaping Unnoticed From Angry Mobs…" he put her down and inspected the foam around the hand she had rabidly gnawed on. "…Toph?"

She wiped away the remaining froth wiped it nonchalantly on the front of her stately dress. " The boy down the road has a bunch of uselessly awesome skills, which include growling exactly like a wolf-bat and foaming at the mouth at will."

Silence struck like a thunderbolt. "You have a weird boyfriend."

"He's _not_ my…I'm blushing aren't I?"

"Brightly. Now put this on." Before she could even ask, the weird mask was strapped around his face and she had been thrown on to his back, to which she reflexively latched onto. Her four-limb grip only got tighter when seismic activity went silent and the whistling of the wind roared up in powerful bursts. "In case you're wondering? I'm jumping from wall to wall and…now we're on the roof. Hop off. You smell like a rabid animal tagged by expensive perfume."

She dropped to the tiles of the roof, quickly gaining her balance before kicking her teacher in the shin. A curious silence later, "Toph Bei Fong is _not_ amused…" affirming her sudden movement to one of the few people she'd ever met with decent hard-body training. Truth be told, she'd never figured out why others skipped such adaptations when-

"Do you _always_ ponder the universe in the middle of intense situations." He cut into her reminiscing, alerting her to the chorus of wailing sirens and the rumbling of assembling forces. "Since you seem to 'see' by touch and hopefully hearing, I want you to do like a wolf-bat and use echo-mapping."

"Exactly what it sounds like?"

"Thankfully, yes." Something large enough to feel tore through the space between them and crashed into the ceramic tiles, giving her the unwelcome image of a _Zahgn_, twisting, sentient metal and all. "Focus on whatever the hell that thing is. Stats?"

"_Zahgn_. Insanity inhabiting lightning animating lumps of ore bringing a lot of pain and madness to whatever it hits." How she managed to rattle that off fast enough for effective in-combat intel, she didn't bother to think of in that moment. Instead, she snatched up a loose tile and- "_Bo'un jo Toph Bei Fong. Ba'un jo'us!_" -chucked it at the possessed iron.

It hit.

The golem stilled.

Then turned to her elder Maestro.

Its screech ripped through the resonance of its bellow, chilling her already shaken bones, but proving the integrity of her incantation in its lack of paralyzing effect. Zuko, on the other hand... "That wouldn't happen to work for me, too, would it? Because, as of now, _I can't move_." she ignored him and took a deep breath.

"_Zuko u Toph Bei Fong!"_ Zuko's vibrations resumed their thunderous fluidity and their owner snatched her up, leaping from what must have been building to building (if her rolling guts were anything to go by). "What about 'undetected escape'?"

It was a minute later, in a quiet alley that he responded. "Apparently, I'm still groggy, because I forgot to ask _how long_ I've been sleeping in that altar form."

"It's one hundred years _After Avatar_. Are you going to have a meltdown, now?" she asked at his dramatic shrug and groan." Because that is _so_ not cool in this kind of situation." For once in her blind life, she _felt_ someone raise their head to stare at her. It was all the more impressive with her dulled senses.

"With _that _dialect? How can I? Its a wonder that I'm not smiling, right now." Truth be told, it reallywas. " I'm just worried that my smart-ass son is going to be even more proverbial now that he has a few decades under his belt."

"Think he can help with our mess?"

"...can you stomach a five hour tea party."

"…name, please."

"Iroh." he admitted with a sigh " The 'Dragon of the West' if he still goes by that stupid nick name."

She grinned wide enough to rival the mask on her face. "Oh~, _he does_..." she enjoyed the ensuing misery. As far as she was concerned, that what he got for jumping like that. This next hammer, however, was just being cruel "He's kind of famous, being an Emperor and all..."

"History lesson. _Now_."

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Love it or hate it, if you've read from 'one hundred years ago,' to the period at the end of this sentence, then please respond.


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